"Lunch," he said, though it had been fairly light. The moon made him ravenous and nauseous in turns and the only meal that he'd even felt like eating at had been lunch. Breakfast and dinner had both been spent in the hut or with the animals. Turns out wandering the halls rounding up students was what it took to encourage his stomach to eat.
Derek picked up the roll and wrinkled his nose at it. He wasn't a fan of bread at the best of times - it sat too heavy in his stomach - and this was definitely not the best. But he ate it, if with significantly less enthusiasm.
"It was fully cooked," he usually took his meat a little bloodier, he'd been told it was a side-effect of the bite, "and I'm not giving him bones until he's bigger, if he doesn't break them up well enough he can choke, or they'll get caught in his digestive tract and cause a blockage. You don't want that."